Page 37 of Bound By Water
His smile fades. “Her biggest fear was that we would be born with a high level of power or a rare talent. She felt that once the government knew about everyone, it would be bad. She was right. Her generation was largely ignored. Then, our generation came along, and Raven started rounding up the most powerful of us.”
The more I hear, the more scared I am of this whole thing. How do I live being scared all the time?
“We?” I ask softly.
His breath catches. “My sister and me.”
“I’ve always wanted a sibling. What’s she like? Do you ever see her or your mom?” I ask tentatively, almost afraid of his answer.
This time, his smile is brighter. “Lily is wonderful. Smart, beautiful, and at seventeen, growing up way too fast. Unfortunately, she’s extremely powerful. Her talent is telekinesis but on a significantly higher level than anyone else with those powers.” His mouth turns down. “If I get a chance to visit them, I take it, but it’s rare.”
“Does your sister look like you?” I ask, picturing a blond girl with green eyes. Scooting down into the leather couch, I tuck my cold hands into the crook of his arm and huddle closer.
“We used to look alike. Same blue eyes and blond hair,” he replies with a small smile. Confused, I stare at him. “My powers grew exponentially, and when they did, my eyes turned green. It happens sometimes. Lily’s are still blue. Brighter, though.”
It’s obvious he misses them. “I’m sorry. It sounds like you’re a close-knit family.” Although I try to hide the envy in my voice, I’m sure he can still hear it.
He squeezes my hand. “We are. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. Nothing.” Laying his head on the back of the sofa, he wraps his arms around me and rubs up and down, generating some warmth. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
* * *
“Greer, wake up,”River tells me, his voice urgent. “We’ve got company.”
I shoot up from where I’m sleeping, only to be met with River’s arm across my chest and a very large gun in my face. The man in front of us is wearing dark camo fatigues. I search for an insignia, but I don’t see anything on his arms. Some kind of dark knit material covers his face, leaving only his eyes and mouth visible.
“Name,” the man in front of me barks, his gravelly voice sounding almost irritated.
I’m caught by his amber eyes. Ringed with burnt orange, they’re so striking it takes me a minute to respond. “Greer… Vickers.” It’s tough to say Lionel’s last name. “Who are you?” My voice is shaky, but it’s hard not to be scared when a soldier is standing in front of you with a gun.
He ignores my question and looks at River. “You?”
“River Fulton,” he states with a slight smirk.
He ignores River and taps the thing on his throat. “Greer confirmed.” He pauses. “Affirmative. On our way out.”
He eases back a step or two, but the gun never lowers. “Get up. We’re leaving.”
Not liking his attitude, I glare at him. “What’s your name?”
He says nothing, only jerks his head toward the door.
Afraid we’d have to leave in a hurry, the only thing I took off last night were my shoes. I’m still wearing the bag and my windbreaker. Reaching down, I jam my foot into one sneaker, then the other. The minute they’re on, River grabs my hand and pulls me up, leading us out of the office. GI Joe falls into step behind me.
The second we pass through the office door, more men in fatigues with their faces covered close in on us, guns aimed in our direction. Unnerved, I stumble and almost fall, but the man behind me reaches out and steadies me.
Glancing back, I reluctantly murmur my thanks, but of course, he doesn’t answer. Another man falls in behind him. Swallowing hard, I grip River’s hand tighter and carefully watch each step. Outside, the sun is shining, and the air is crisp. Two dark SUVs are idling in front of the door. Seconds later, we’re completely surrounded by men.
The big guy behind me wraps a single arm around my body. “Now.”
A tall, lean men standing beside the first SUV reaches out and touches River on the neck. “Sleep.” Two men catch him as he instantly drops.
Unable to move, I open my mouth to scream, but a hand clamps across my lips. “Sleep” is the last word I hear.
* * *
Something tapsmy face a couple of times, and I reach up to brush it away. An irritated sigh, followed by a gruff order to get up, wakes me immediately. I sit up with a glare and find myself in unfamiliar surroundings with a guy squatting in front of me. Correction, a man. Big, with broad shoulders and thick thighs, he squats easily as if he’s used to it.
His jaw is chiseled like granite and based on the tic I see, clenched tightly in irritation. Scruff covers his strong cheekbones and slightly crooked nose. Even his dark brown hair is closely cropped and molded to his skull. Pouty lips are the only thing soft on this guy. The longer I stare at him, the more the line across his forehead deepens until he’s scowling. If it wasn’t for those strange amber eyes of his, I wouldn’t know he was the same guy who came for us at the warehouse.
